


A Cat About Town

by unendingexhaustion



Series: Critical Role Prompt Bin [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Molly and Caduceus in the Mighty Nein, No Plot/Plotless, Slice of Life, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unendingexhaustion/pseuds/unendingexhaustion
Summary: Late one night, a tired Caleb Widogast allows Jester to borrow Frumpkin during the Mighty Nein's stay in town. A trickster cleric and a magical cat? This can only end well!





	A Cat About Town

**Author's Note:**

> For elyiajade on tumblr. Sorry it's been approximately a million years!
> 
> Completely unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. See a typo? Let me know!

It was a cozy inn, make no mistake. Firelight danced over the dark wood furnishings, warm golds and oranges reflecting off of surfaces worn smooth by decades of patrons. Outside, the moon was high in the sky. A stiff, cold breeze rattled through the tree branches and sent clouds scudding across the heavens. It was, Jester reflected, exactly the kind of night one would want to be in a nice little place like this and not camping outside. 

Another sip of milk, another idle brushstroke across the pages of her journal. The fire crackled merrily, the soft conversations of the few remaining patrons a quiet mumble of noise in the background. Across the table, closer to the fireplace, sat Caleb. He was hunched closely over his spellbook, carefully copying arcane runes from a crumbling piece of parchment. Frumpkin was curled around his neck like a living scarf, napping contentedly in the warmth. 

A few final touches, and her journal entry was complete. Two whole pages documenting the past week’s madcap adventures, just for the Traveler! (And also maybe to show her mama, next time they came to visit.) Jester yawned hugely, the accompanying stretch pushing her to the edge of overbalancing as her chair tipped back on its rear legs. It would be a bit before she could close her journal without smudging her evening’s work, and almost everyone had already gone to bed. Ugh. Her gaze slowly wandered around the room, searching for something to entertain her before landing on Frumpkin once more. Leaning her cheek on her hand, she stared intently at the fluffy ginger cat, draped heavily across his master’s shoulders.  
“Hey Caleb. Hey. Cay-leb.” She dragged his name out in a sleepy drawl, rolling the syllables around her mouth like candy. He held up one ink-stained hand, pen scratching furiously against parchment. After what felt like an eternity to Jester but was likely only a few moments, the wizard heaved a sigh, blew on his ink, and put down the pen. 

“Yes, what is it, Jester? I am very busy right now.” To a bystander, his words might sound harsh, but Jester wasn’t put off. There was no hostility in his eyes, just exhaustion.   


“Can Frumpkin talk to other kitties?”   


Another sigh. Caleb ran his hand down his face, leaving a trailing smudge of ink behind. “Well, yes, I suppose so, but--”   


“Really?” A grin was beginning to grow on Jester’s face. “What do you think they talk about? Do they-”   


“Jester! May I finish, please?”   


“Oops. Sorry, Caleb!” She settled back into her chair, her tail coiling lazily around one of its legs.   


“As I was saying, they do communicate, but not like you and I. It’s more like…body language, and whisker movement, and things like that.”   


“Oh.” Jester pouted slightly, lost in thought. “Oh! Could I borrow Frumpkin for a bit?” She aimed what was likely intended to be an innocent smile in his direction, but Caleb had known her too long to believe it. His hand immediately flew to his familiar, who woke with a sleepy chirp.

“Forgive me, Jester, if I am a touch suspicious of that request after your, ah, previous line of inquiry. What are your intentions towards my cat?”

“Oh, don’t worry so much! I won’t do anything  _ bad  _ with him. Just while you’re busy? Please? He’ll get bored just sitting around at the inn while you do wizard stuff! 

Caleb buried his head in his hands, muffling his words. “Ja, alright. Fine. But only when I give permission. Otherwise he will not listen to you at all, and that is a promise.”

“Yes!”Jester pumped her fist in delight. Across from her, Caleb gave up fighting the battle with gravity and let his forehead hit the table. He was going to regret this.

 

The next morning dawned grey and drizzly. The meager sunlight that crept its way through the clouds felt somehow heavy, like it would rather be anywhere but here. Inside one of the upper rooms, a mound of blankets shifted and groaned. Cracking open an eye, Caleb debated getting up to close the shutters, but ultimately decided against it. The slightly lumpy bed felt like heaven after months of sleeping on the ground, and the room was so cold outside the blankets. Frankly, it would be a crime to get up, what with Frumpkin curled into a ball behind his knees and the small, warm frame of Nott the Brave snuggled against his chest. His mind made up, Caleb closed his eyes once more and let Frumpkin’s rumbling purr and Nott’s raspy, even breaths lull him back to sleep. Of course, that’s when the knocking came.  
“Good morning, Caleb!” Jester’s voice sang out from the hallway, only slightly muffled by the wooden door. Nott groaned and shoved her head under her pillow without even opening her eyes. 

“What is it, we are sleeping here.” He called back, still half-hoping she’d go away and let them rest.

“Molly and I went out early and found a bakery! The food is still warm if you want some, but you have to open the door first!” 

From under the pillow, Nott’s ears twitched.  Caleb huffed. Breakfast did sound pretty good, now that he thought of it. Perhaps he could sleep again after she left. 

The bare wood of the floor was particularly cold after the warmth of the bed, and he shifted from foot to foot as he opened the door. He was greeted by a grinning Jester, a large cloth-draped basket under her arm steaming lightly in the cold.

“Here! I have a sausage roll for Nott, and I didn’t know what type of muffin you liked best so I got both, but Molly took half of the cranberry one even though he already had a whole one all to himself so you’ll probably want the poppy seed one and you can go yell at him later for being greedy. I already did and he seemed sorry but he should apologise to you because it was your breakfast, and-” the rambling continued as she dug through the basket and presented him with the aforementioned baked goods.

As if drawn by the smell, Frumpkin leaped off the bed to twine around their ankles, yowling in the manner of hungry cats the world over. Over in the blanket nest, Nott poked her head out from under her pillow.

“Get him out of here! He’s gonna try and steal my sausage roll! I’m pretty sure bread’s not good for cats, not even magic ones!”

Ever the opportunist, Jester cocked her head and chimed in. “I could take him! We could go out and get him a good breakfast too!”

It was too early for this. All Caleb wanted was to eat his muffin in peace, wrestle some of the blankets away from Nott, and go back to sleep for a while.

“Ja, ja, alright, fine. Just don’t get him killed, ok? And thank you for the breakfast.” He crouched down and looked Frumpkin in the eyes. “Listen to Jester today, okay? Do what she tells you, and do not make trouble.” With that, he shooed the cat out of the room towards her and carefully shut the door, almost dropping his muffin in the process.

Jester simply couldn’t restrain herself from breaking into a little dance of delight. 

“Oooh! You and I are going to have such a good day, Frumpkin! Let me drop off Beau and Yasha’s food and then we can go out!” 

Frumpkin, much like his master, simply gave her a bemused look and, unlike his master, began washing himself.

“Alright,” Jester declared, “you stay right there. I’ll be back real soon!” 

The door of the girls’ shared room was not meant to withstand the enthusiasm of Jester Lavorre. Luckily, Beauregard was already up and going about her morning stretches, otherwise Jester might have found herself cracked over the head with a bo staff. Ah, such was the life of an adventurer. As it was, she shook off Yasha’s withering, half-awake side eye with remarkable aplomb. 

“Good morning Beau! Good morning Yasha! It is gonna be a very good day today! I have lots of plans, you know.” She declared, maneuvering around Beau’s outstretched limbs, depositing the basket of baked goods on the bed, and whipping the cloth cover off with the air of someone revealing a priceless artefact. “I brought you breakfast, but don’t take too long deciding who gets what because I need that basket, okay?” 

Beau, who had untangled herself with incredible speed at the mention of food, gave an inquiring look.

“Listen,” she remarked, digging through the remaining pastries and rolls, “far be it from me to wonder what kind of hot bullshit you get up to in your free time, but why do you need the basket like, right now?” She handed a sweet bun to Yasha and shoved a giant piece of bread into her own mouth, propriety and table manners be damned. Jester didn’t seem to notice, instead choosing to dump the remaining pastries onto the bed.   
“Hey! We have to sleep here! Now there’s gonna be crumbs all up in everything!”

Jester waved a dismissive hand as she tucked the cloth into the basket. “Caleb is letting me borrow Frumpkin for the day! It is cold out though, and I don’t want his little teeny paws to freeze, so I need it to carry him.” 

Beau gave her an odd look. “He’s a cat, Jes. They walk around in worse weather than this all the time.”

Jester gave her handiwork an appreciative once-over and stood up, apparently satisfied. 

“Well today he doesn’t have to. We are stepping out in  _ style _ , Beau!” She punctuated this with a little hop, her hands clasped beneath her chin. With that, she picked up the basket and swept out the door.   


Yasha raised a questioning eyebrow at Beau, pastry in hand. All Beau could really do in response was shrug and pick up another roll.


End file.
